Something Like This Holds Promise
by anfiasco
Summary: Dark AU: Olympus has fallen, and the camp is in ruins. With no godly authority or safehaven, demigods are forced to wander aimlessly to avoid the authority of the Army and unchecked monsters. In this dark future, the last person Percy wants to run into is Luke Castellan. Lukercy; pretty dubcon, T for safety.


**A/N: just a quick thing I did in the days before school started again gghhh. I might add to this actually. Its open for me to write multiple chapters but im not going to commit to it yet**

**AU: Post Last Olympian****. Kronos successfully returned, cast aside Luke and his measley Titan Army, and disappeared along with the rest of the gods. With CHB gone, and no godly authority, demigods wander aimlessley avoiding the reminence of the Army and roaming monsters. Its not a happy future**.

**Warnings: Lukercy, slight dubcon but nothing explicit happens, T for safety. Not really spoilers cause its not canon? But read the books **

**Disclaimer: if i owned percy jackson the whole story would be a lot darker let me tell ya**

**review if you'd take the time! (: let me know if I should continue!**

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Times were rough.

For everyone, mortal and half-blooded alike.

An overwhelming percentage of humanity were unaware of how bad it really was, blissfully ignorant as they always remained. Struggling with a recently wrecked Manhattan, and dealing with the storms that passed through major cities so frequently now, everyone assumed this streak of misfortune would pass soon.

Everyone who knew the extenses of the "misfortune" were plagued with invariant fear. They didn't know when or if this dark age would end.

Percy Jackson hadn't saved Olympus.

Kronos had returned, graduated from Luke's vessel, and after the war with the gods that had wrecked most of New York, had left without a trace. Along with the rest of the gods. They had ignored every question sent to them, every call for help. The only sign they were still there, was the constant clashing of the elements, only seen as storms in the motral's eyes. Perhaps the gods were fighting Kronos. Maybe they were disappointed in the fact that Kronos had been allowed to come back by their demigods- so disappointed, that they'd abandoned the human race entirely. Or it was possible Kronos was still out there, and they were hiding.

No one could be sure of anything anymore.

Camp Half Blood was wrecked and over with. Dionysus had dissapeared, and Chiron was unable to keep the camp running by himself in such disorder. The demigods residing there had dispersed, but they had nowhere to go, for the most part. And they couldn't stay rooted for very long anyways. Constantly moving, on the run from monsters that now roamed unchecked, most demigods couldn't even attempt to see each other anymore. Much less travel together. It was too risky; too dangerous.

It was everyone for themselves.

Among the shrinking population of demigods, those who held hatred for the gods had taken temporary command, and were reigning judgement. They saw themselves as the winners of the great battle, seeing as the gods had vanished- they were victorious kings. Whoever was left of the Titan Army were looking for stragglers, demigods with nothing to live for, and turning them to their side; it was an impressively organized community of killers, plus horrifically tempting to join in such dark times. Some felt the recent abandonment, and had turned against the gods to band with the army. Those who didn't join avoided said half-bloods at all costs.

Percy hadn't seen his friends in months.

He couldn't go back to his mother and stepfather. They would be in danger. He couldn't see Annabeth, or Grover, or even Nico because it would end with _everyone_ in danger. Percy would work a shitty job for a week tops, earning just enough money to get by before a monster turned up. Or someone recognizable as being in the Titan Army dropped by. Then he'd have to run again. He could fight, but that ran the risk of attracting even more monsters, or demigods, and wrecking the place he was currently at. He was constantly on edge, always alert. It was painful, and stressing, but it had worked so far.

Though he was worn out. Exhausted. Wishing something would change for the better.

It was because Percy was so tired that he was caught off guard one evening, on the way to a hotel to rent a room for a night. He was walking through a dark alley, unaware in his dazed state to notice a presence behind him. That was, until it spoke. And it didn't just talk, it knew his name.

"Percy Jackson. I wasn't expecting to find _you_."

He stiffened. Percy knew that voice, the way the syllables were strung together in such a way... this was bad. He whipped around, hand grabbing for his hidden weapon in his pocket- he couldn't let him get the upper hand, this-

The newcomer had his own blade at Percy's throat before the young demigod could even feel the pen in his pocket. Percy's back came into contact with the alley wall as he flinched up against it, turning his head to the side in alarm.

"Don't-"

"What a pleasant surprise." The assailant flicked his head, gesturing with his free hand. "Come on, hands. Can't have you gutting me, right?"

He had to do it. Luke would no doubt kill him otherwise.

Cooperating, Percy slowly drew his empty fingers from his pocket, flattening his hands against the cold brick behind him. All the while, his mind was reeling, grasping in desperation for a way out. Trying his best to remain calm, he slowed his breathing, working out some sort of escape plan.

"What are the odds...you wouldn't believe how many people have been trying to find you. You disappeared off the face of the planet for a good couple months; quite impressive."

"Y-yeah..."

His gaze wavered over Luke's appearance. The older half-blood looked like he had taken care of himself; like this depression of missing gods hadn't been affecting him. It probably hadn't, knowing how organized he had gotten with his army after Kronos had left. His clothes were clean, he looked well fed and like he had slept well. Unlike Percy. He had involuntarily received the short end of the stick, scrounging to keep himself afloat.

It couldn't end like this. He had to... push the blade out of the way, duck, grab for his sword while he was running... disappear into a crowded bar, that would work-

"You're not getting the better of me. Might as well give up," Luke chuckled softly in the concealment of the alley, pressing the cool edge of his blade up against the soft underside of Percy's chin. "You're not getting away."

"Like hell I'm not," the boy hissed, shifting what he could as not to nick himself on the sharp edge of the sword, standing on his toes. He suppressed a whimper, putting on a brave face to oppose his enemy. "You think you can kill me this easy?"

"Oh, _Percy_..." the name dripped, thick as syrup, from his lips. Drawn out, a delicacy only said on special occasions, only in special moments such as this. "You really think I'd kill you?" His words were sugarcoated poison, a drug. "Oh, you've got it _all_ _wrong_."

"Somehow, I doubt that," Percy retorted, but still shivered at Luke's tone, casting his eyes up. There had to be something. Something he could do to get out of this mess.

"Look at me, Perce..."

He didn't, instead closed his eyes upon hearing his old pet name.

"Don't call me that."

"I don't think you're in the position to ask anything," Luke drawled on. "Come on, show me those eyes of yours."

Percy felt a sudden sting on his cheek, flinching, but had the sense not to move. His eyes flew open, gasping at the sharp pain, but forced his hands to stay rooted to the wall despite the urge to touch the slice in his skin.

"_Much _better."

"O-ow..."

"Oh, I'm sorry..." Luke watched a bead of red drip down the side of Percy's face, staining his appearance. He exercised his freedom of movement, unlike Percy had, licking his thumb and dragging it across the damaged skin. "My sword slipped."

Percy was breathing harder now. He was losing it. He couldn't keep his brain focused on escaping, it was drifting, scrambled-

"Calm down," came a whisper, in the form of hot breath in the shell his ear. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Percy couldn't hold back a whimper this time. He turned his head to the side again, shutting his eyes against Luke's wish. Fingers feebly and unsuccessfully attempting to grasp at the rough brick.

"Why are you so scared? It's just me. You can trust me."

"No..."

"_Percy_..." It was that voice again. The sickly sweet, soft voice that was too perfect to ignore. "Don't you think it's better now? No gods?"

"You almost _died_," Percy choked. "It wasn't worth it! You know it wasn't!"

Luke's expression changed drastically, from a cynical smirk to grim. That airy, false kindness was gone in a second.

"I thought you'd be happy."

"Why would- Luke, you can't be _serious_," the victim tried, "Its _chaos_! The camp's gone, no one's safe enough anymore, not even what's left of your army..."

"But the gods aren't controlling you. You don't have that shit hanging over your head any longer." Luke's eyes narrowed, dangerous now. "Thank me for that. Come on, say it."

"Listen to yourself!" Percy argued. "Kronos could have killed everyone including you-"

"The whole Kronos plan got out of hand, yeah. But it's over now. I did the right thing," he scoffed. "It was best for everyone: the camp, the world. I thought you'd be more thankful," Luke sighed, gritting his teeth. "Can't you give me a little credit?"

"Y-you don't get-"

"Say, 'thank you, Luke. Thanks for everything'." his tone was unforgiving now.

Percy bit his lip, weighing the options.

He had none.

"Thank you for getting rid of the gods." Percy used sarcasm, nonetheless flinching against the wall again, taking a breath. Shifted his feet, uncomfortably stiff. "Thanks a lot."

Luke looked unimpressed. Pressing the blade just a little harder against such a vulnerable throat was enough to break Percy's defense.

"Thank you, _thank you_ you're right I was _wrong_, just-"

"See? That wasn't so hard, now, was it?"

And suddenly, that teasing smile was back, pulling at his scar.

It seemed the son of Poseidon's luck was against him, to run into said half blood on a whim. Why, of all people, did Luke have to find him after all this time? Percy exhaled, his fire extinguished. He had nothing left. Luke had him, now, there was nothing he could do.

"What do you even _want_ from me?" Percy asked, exasperated. He shook his head what little he could, tired. Done. "Just get it over with."

He was expecting another slice at his skin. Maybe a couple more minutes of taunting, verbal abuse and possibly dangling his life in front of his eyes.

The demigod didn't expect such a quick answer.

Luke dropped his sword from the other's neck, letting it clang against the pavement of the alley. On instinct Percy relaxed, taking deep and desperate breaths of relief, dropping his head. He was close to slumping down against the wall, reaching up to touch the cut on his cheek, when Luke pinned Percy's now free hands on either side of his head.

The boy's skull thudded back against the brick, eyes snapping shut at the painful contact.

"Such a pretty face..." The words barely audible, like a thought not meant to be spoken aloud.

"Wh-"

Luke took advantage of the confusion, leaning forward to kiss at the cut he'd made on Percy's face. Twice. Three times, urgent now, pressing his lips against soft skin as if to right his wrong. Tongue dipping out just barely, to clean the mess he had created, mouth opening slightly as he inched his way to the other's lips.

"W-what are you..." Percy was losing his voice, and the ability to move, hands feebily pressed against Luke's chest. "...doing?"

His mind slowed. He felt hot. But at the same time, a panic was building ever so quickly in the pit of his stomach. Percy had no idea what to do. Luke was kissing him, his _enemy_ sliding his tongue into his mouth, and Percy wasn't fighting; he just blinked, green eyes wide in shock.

Luke 's movements were desperate. Parting his mouth feverishly against his captive's, despite him being almost completely unresponsive. He couldn't decide where to put his hands; down to grab at the younger's clothes, or sliding up to cup his face. Tug roughly at his dark hair. Turning Percy's face to the side, examining the cut he had made with a curious mix of satisfaction and regret.

"Sorry," Luke breathed, kissing the mark again, willing it to stop bleeding. "I shouldn't have done that..."

Percy felt like a doll, whipped and pulled around at the other half-blood's will. Unable to catch his own breath, or process what was going on. Unsure of how to react, with his enemy planting kisses all over him and tugging his shirt up. Lips against his neck now. Sliding warm hands around the skin of his waist, eyes half lidded.

"Wait, w-wait stop..."

"I really need you with me..." Luke said quietly, pulling back to search his captive's face. "By my side. We'd be the perfect team, you can't deny it."

Percy shook his head, mouth agape. Confused. Out of breath, aroused, and hopelessly confused.

"Tell me I did the right thing. That you're happy. That you're on my side."

"Wh-at?"

"_Percy_..."

That voice again. So soothing. It almost had Percy believing that Luke was the good guy, all along, from the beginning even up till now. Percy should join him, not run and hide...it only made sense...

Then he jumped as he felt fingers slide against his thigh. Thoughtfully slow, as not to set him off...despite the care in the touch, Percy's breath caught. He blushed as Luke pressed on further, kissing his jaw with closed eyes and casually brushing his fingers across the hem of the others pants. The captivated demigod couldn't control the color rising to his cheeks, the weight of the situation settling in as involuntary heat; uneasy doubt was almost lost in how _good_ he felt. Not just pleasure, but the comforting warmth of another human being after being alone for_ so long..._

"Wait, I..."

"I can do what's best for you," Luke murmured, almost next to no space between his mouth and Percy's as he spoke. The inflection in his voice suggested in more ways than one. "You won't have to be on the run like this. I can help. And in return, you can help me."

"That's..." Percy couldn't think. His mind was blank, the usual space of thought now overflowing with mixed feelings and uncertain promises. "That's not..."

"Please."

Luke kissed him again, softly this time. Gentle. Reassuring Percy that he would indeed take care of him, that it would be the right decision to make. No rush. As if they had all the time in the world, pretending this alley in the dark would protect them. Sinking in further, Percy couldn't help it. He was kidding himself to state Luke wasn't attractive.; this kind of situation had crossed his mind once or twice before, but now, this was real. And this half blood was offering him a scenario that held promise, that would solve everything...

Pushing the man off him, and gasping for air, Percy grasped at what was left of his conscience.

"Y-you can't just do this..." He shook his head, breaking the spell Luke seemed to have over him. "I can't just, throw everything away-"

"You don't _have_ anything to throw away." That cold, intimidating exterior was starting to resurface again, the hands encircling the younger's hips tightening. "You've got _nothing_, Percy. No friends to protect you, no money, no plan. But..." Luke scanned Percy's face up and down, wetting his lips. "You could have me. And together we'd be unstoppable. No monsters would dare come near us. No demigod would dare challenge us. You and me, at the top of an army. Why are you against this, Perce? What's there to lose?"

It was getting more and more difficult to keep his mind straight, sidetracked by Luke's intoxicating guarantees. Slipping his mind was the root of the matter; Luke was the one who had started all this. He'd killed people. He'd done it for the good of the world, but who was he to judge what was good and what was not?

As Luke sensed this struggle of thought, he leaned in slowly, trying at another go...

And was halted. Percy, hands curled against a broad chest, stopped the demigod from advancing any further on him again. The resistance was only slight, but Luke felt it.

"I can't," Percy admitted quietly. Almost regretfully. Yes, there was regret and even _guilt_ in his voice for turning down Luke's offer, and if this didn't end soon, Percy was sure he would turn around to accept it. "I can't do this, I'm sorry, Luke..."

Why was he apologizing? Why did he feel like he'd done something wrong?

The older half-blood didn't respond. He only stared the younger boy down, conflict evident in his bright blue eyes. Hoping that his decision wasn't final, wishing the answer was different.

He was angry now. Expression turning drastically to visibly upset, he was losing control of the situation. No, he'd already lost control; and how Luke had been sure he'd won the young demigod over.

Luke contemplated taking Percy with him anyways. Just snatching him up, stealing him away despite the boy turning him down. No one would know the difference. Percy didn't know what he really wanted. What he was missing out on. That's right, Luke Castellan could do what he pleased; and what pleased him was Percy Jackson. He could so easily take him away, keep the demigod for himself where no one else could reach. Perfect.

It would be so easy.

So tempting.

But...

Percy seemed remorseful. He felt sorry for Luke, it was apparent through the look on his face, and how his fingers were still curled tight into the other's jacket. He was sorry for saying no, sorry about everything that had happened. As blood was still dripping slowly from the recent cut, the boy _still_ felt sorry for him.

And Luke was almost offended by how much Percy seemed to care.

He couldn't break the boy. Not like that. Forcing him would be the worst mistake the son of Hermes would have ever made, he knew this.

That didn't mean he was finished, though. Giving up was out of the question.

"Fine," Luke spat after a time, pushing off from the brick wall and away from Percy. He attempted not to let emotion slip through his tone, trying keeping his cold reputation intact. "Have it your way. Youre making a mistake, Percy."

The younger demigod looked like he was about to reply, but instead bit his lip, keeping it to himself. Fixed his clothes with a pink tinge on his face, avoiding Luke's eye.

"Don't die, if you can help it... and you'd better stay hidden..."

Luke wasn't planning on sticking around after this rejection. Picking up his sword, he sliced the air in a practiced fashion, stepping through his handmade portal in an instant.

And then he was gone. A slight breeze replaced his presence.

Percy didn't say anything, still breathing hard. Alone, in a dark alley.

Feeling the adrenaline rush out of his system in a heartbeat, Percy slumped down the wall, hitting the pavement with no support. Going limp on the ground, letting his head fall forward. He swore, tipsily reveling at the past couple minutes of his life- nearly laughed, part relief and half hysteria. Turning his head back and forth, woozy with exhaustion and confusion.

He wasn't dead, though.

Luke had spared him; instead _kissed_ him and _begged_ Percy to join him, choosing to leave Percy be rather than slicing him up upon his refusal. It didn't seem right, almost too lucky for the boy to have left the incident unscathed. He could still feel the ghost of lips on his face: on his mouth, _in_ his mouth, across his jaw, and over his cheek, where...

_Almost_ unscathed.

The demigod lifted his hand, wiping it across the left side of his face. Inspecting it in the fim lighting, he saw a smudge of red trail from his thumb back to his wrist. Percy gingerly touched at the cut again, this time finding a bit of red on his fingers. Licking his palm, he carefully rubbed what was left of the blood off his face; he would heal it later.

Sitting on the cold pavement, energy drained, he had only a cut on his cheek to prove the encounter actually happened.

Luke Castellan.

Percy really didn't understand him at all.

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